


In Another World

by generic_cruiser



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Avengers/Agents of SHIELD crossover, CW for violence and weapon handling, F/M, Gen, Grant Ward bashing, Hydra plotline, TW for mentions of abuse and trauma, adoption au, but also changing them at the same time, ignoring the plot of the show, the tags are really fucking long jesus, we're doing angst and fluff and romance because why not, we're keeping with the plots of the movies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generic_cruiser/pseuds/generic_cruiser
Summary: Adoption AU where Daisy is adopted by 2 of SHIELD's best agents, and then we see the life she lives. Follows mostly MCU movie plotlines, with a few from AoS.WIP, updating weekly (hopefully)
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez, Bobbi Morse & Antoine Triplett, Fitzsimmons & Avengers Team, Lance Hunter & Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter & Antoine Triplett, Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse, Leo Fitz & Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson & Antoine Triplett, Leo Fitz & Lance Hunter & Bobbi Morse & Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Lincoln Campbell & Yo Yo Rodriguez & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Lincoln Campbell/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Maria Hill & Melinda May, Maria Hill & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Nick Fury & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Avengers Team, Phil Coulson & Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Nick Fury, Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Skye | Daisy Johnson & Avengers Team, brief Daisy Johnson/Grant Ward
Comments: 18
Kudos: 114





	1. First steps

**Author's Note:**

> This is the universe my fic "Digging for Fossils" exists in, so that will end up being incorporated further along the road. I'm starting this series because of the like 2 comments on the previously mentioned fic asking me to (the threat regarding my shirt buttons was very effective), so I hope this lives up to the very small hype. 
> 
> I'm hoping I'll be able to explain the ~intricacies~ of my AU through the story, but if you have any questions I will be happy to answer them in the comments. The only two things I can think of that are of note that won't be in the fic are that Bahrain never happened, and May never married Andrew (they did date for a bit but it probably won't come up much). 
> 
> I think I'm going to have this fic alternate between chapters about Daisy growing up and then ones about her being an agent and an adult. I'm going to try to stray away from some of the more angsty aspects of specific plotlines, but there will be angst and sadness eventually so stay tuned.
> 
> Just an FYI for Grant Ward sympathizers, we are absolutely bashing him in this, which is purely because I am the author and am also incredibly biased against him. We hate nazis here, even conventionally attractive ones. He and Daisy only date in this to further the plot.
> 
> I really hope yall enjoy, I'm going to try to put out new chapters weekly.

Daisy kicked her legs back and forth, listening for the satisfying sound that occurred whenever the heels of her sneakers hit her chair. It was the only thing keeping her centered, that reliable sound that always came at the same time. 

“Please stop.” Daisy looked up at the woman across the room. Maria, she said her name was. She stopped her kicking instantly, slouching further into the chair. 

“Sorry.”

Maria smiled. “It’s okay. You nervous?”

Daisy stared at the eagle emblazoned above Maria’s head; the same symbol on the papers about her new parents, the same symbol all over the building they were in. She couldn’t figure out why it was so familiar. “No.”

“Why not?”

“They’re just going to give me back.” It was what happened every time, especially when she liked a family. And she liked these people. They had only met twice before, but she liked them. A lot. So it was almost a fact that she would end up back at the orphanage soon enough. Hopefully sooner rather than later, so she didn’t get attached. 

Maria’s brow furrowed. “No, they won’t. Not these ones.”

Daisy was willing to hope that was true. Just a little. 

It was another hour before Maria’s phone rang, and she flashed Daisy a hopeful smile as she picked it up. The conversation was very one sided, the person on the other end talking a lot while Maria sometimes got in a “sure” and “uh-huh.”

She clicked the phone down, then smiled again. “They’re here. I’m going to leave to go get them, is that alright?” She got up when Daisy nodded, leaving her alone. 

Daisy didn’t move, and instead spent the whole time listening for footsteps outside, grabbing her bag and sitting up when they came. 

Melinda and Phil came in, laughing at something one of them had said. Maria shut the door as they noticed Daisy standing in the corner. 

Melinda approached first, crouching down to Daisy’s height. “Hey, Daisy.”

“Hi.” She stared at her shoes, not looking up.

“Are you ready?”

Nope, not at all. She nodded.

Melinda offered her hand. Daisy took it, noticing how similar their skin tones were. If people saw them on the street, they might actually think she was Melinda and Phil’s daughter.

Maria reached out to touch Daisy’s shoulder, retracting her arm when she flinched away. Her hand fell out of Melinda’s, and instead of giving it back, she gripped the straps of her backpack. 

Neither Phil or Melinda tried to touch Daisy again until they got to their house. It was huge, at least to Daisy, much bigger than her past foster homes. Her room was on the second floor, near the stairs. It was white, with the barest amount of furniture. 

“We were waiting for you to decide what you wanted for your room,” Phil explained. “We can go shopping for the paint and furniture you want over the weekend.”

“And clothes,” Melinda added. She glanced at Daisy’s small backpack, which she had assured them held all of her belongings. Daisy nodded, and dropped the bag in her room, before agreeing to tour the rest of the house.

The basement became her second favorite room in the house instantly, second only to her bedroom. Just walking into it, seeing the mats on the floor and various workout equipment made her giddy. When she was allowed to, she’d watch hour after hour of action movies and fighting channels on the small TV in her orphanage. The idea of being able to learn how to fight was an exciting premise, especially when Melinda promised she would teach Daisy how.

That was the moment she started to feel at home, when Melinda smiled at her excitement, and placed her hand on Daisy’s arm to gently nudge her back to the stairs. She didn’t even flinch, didn’t tug her arm away until they got to the kitchen. 

~

Melinda was relieved. Based on what Daisy’s social worker and the nuns at the orphanage had said, she had been terrified that the little girl would be scared of them and wouldn’t even talk. But it had gone well, all things considered. There was the small moment back at the Hub, where Daisy had flinched away from Hill, but she hadn’t done anything like that when Melinda touched her arm.

They were trying not to treat Daisy like glass at breakfast, which was a little difficult considering she wouldn’t give them a straight answer about anything. It took Melinda 10 minutes to get the little girl to admit that she even wanted food. She and Phil were one worrying interaction away from marching down to St. Agnes and yelling at some nuns. Or maybe one of the various names in the file shoved under the kitchen sink, which was a really shitty hiding place, but they were working on it.

Clothes shopping had never been Melinda’s favorite pastime, and it seemed like Daisy shared that sentiment. Or she was just uncomfortable around all these people, though Melinda had a suspicion it was the former. Daisy seemed like a people pleaser when it came down to it, which could’ve been the result of something nice or something terrible. 

Phil had smartly opted to look for furniture, after spending the whole car ride letting Daisy pick out her favorites. It had been over two hours since he entered Ikea, which meant it was either taking forever or he was regressing into buying random Captain America crap. Knowing him, it could just as easily be the former or the latter. 

Daisy stared at the racks of clothing, her face showing hardly any emotions. If it wasn't problematic, Melinda would be impressed. But she was eight, and no emotions was not a good thing for an eight year old. "See anything you want?" 

Daisy gave a noncommittal shrug. 

Melinda crouched down, careful not to get in the girl's personal space. "You can get whatever you want, you don't have to worry about asking. Well, you should ask, but you don't have to be afraid to ask, is my point." 

"I won't be able to take any of this stuff with me."

What? "We're taking it all home after we're done." 

She shook her head. "I mean when I go back to St. Agnes. I won't need this stuff." 

Oh. _Oh._ Daisy was under the assumption that she was being sent back. Melinda did _not_ want to know the experiences that led her to that conclusion so quickly.   
  
"Daisy, we adopted you. Unless something happens to me or Phil, you're not going back, okay?" She was silently begging for this little girl to believe her, but realized that a change of subject was probably the best route. She stood up, trying for a reassuring smile. "So, what do you want to buy?"

Daisy frowned a bit, then conceded, dragging Melinda over to a display of brightly colored leggings. It wasn't much, but it was a step forward. 

~

"Hey, you look great!" Daisy spun around happily in her new clothes at Phil's words. This was the most animated he had ever seen her, and he wasn't complaining. She was _adorable._

Melinda eyed the trunk of their car. "Did you get everything?" 

He kissed her hairline in response. "Who do you think I am?" Spotting her smirk, he added, "Don't answer that." 

Daisy tugged on his sleeve. "Are we getting food?" 

"Yeah, if you want some. C'mon." Melinda herded Daisy into the car, before pulling her husband to the side. "She doesn't think we're keeping her."

"What?" 

"Daisy told me that she expects to be sent back to St. Agnes. By us." 

Phil felt a sour taste in his mouth just from thinking about it. Why would they ever want to do that, Daisy was amazing. "Why?"

"Experience, probably. We've got to make sure she knows she's not going to be abandoned." Melinda tugged at her hair, visibly upset. 

Before he could reassure her, a tiny fist appeared on the backseat window. Daisy's hand splayed out against the glass, and she glanced at them expectantly. Phil shot her a smile. "Let's start that by feeding her." 

~

Watching Phil and Melinda put together furniture was way better than the infomercials that played nonstop at St. Agnes on the old TV the nuns had. It was way funnier, and resulted in Daisy having a room of her own instead of just boredom. 

When her room was finished, it was the best bedroom she'd ever had. It was the first one she'd been in that was all hers, no foster siblings or fellow orphans in sight, and it was amazing. The only thing she had been iffy on was the Captain America beanbag now in the corner, but it was comfy and Phil loved it so it stayed. Plus, Melinda wouldn't allow it anywhere else in the house.

"What do you think?" Phil stepped away from the newly constructed bed, complete with soft blue sheets. 

For once, Daisy wasn't scared to say she liked something a family had done for her. "I like it."

Phil applauded, then made a light comment about making dinner and exited. Melinda stayed, surveying Daisy like she was an interesting piece of art. It made her nervous; she didn't know what being a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent meant, not really, but it included a knife sitting by the front door and her new ~~parents~~ guardians being able to see right through her.

"You okay?" Daisy's least favorite question in the whole world. 

She had perfected her answer over the years, one that would satisfy whoever was asking while also being somewhat believable. "I'm good." Simple, but adults were idiots, so it worked.

Melinda didn't pry, thankfully, although Daisy figured she didn't believe her. Of course she got put with an observant family, instead of one that didn't pay any attention at all. 

"Do you and Phil have real kids?" The question came out of nowhere for the both of them. Fun. 

Melinda blinked, something registering on her face that Daisy didn't recognize. "Real kids?" 

"Like, your own kids." They seemed too good at it to not have experience. 

"Uh, no, we don't." 

Oh. Weird. 


	2. Surpassing Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashing forward, we see Daisy at 17, entering a new stage of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the 12th right now, and I'm trying to set this to come out on the 15th. If it doesn't, then this experiment has failed and yall get a chapter 3 days early. Win win. 
> 
> I realized that in my last fic it wasn't really clear: the first chapter is set in late July, after Daisy's bday, and then this one is set in May/June. I wrote this chapter when it was snowing outside (yay East Coast), so in my mind one very specific scene has snow, even though logically it doesn't (it doesn't have snow in the fic either, this is just my mind associating it with snow). 
> 
> The alternate title for this chapter is "The Climb," because I was forced to sing that song at my 5th grade graduation and at the time it was humiliating but now I think it's kinda funny. I was very mad at Miley Cyrus for a long time afterwards. 
> 
> We're moving kind of fast in this fic, mostly because I want to establish the academy. I also wanted to show Daisy's friendships with Fitzsimmons and Trip in this fic. We're going to be flipping back and forth between Daisy becoming a Coulson and then her becoming an agent because I feel like there are a lot of parallels that are interesting there. Also, it's my fic so I can do whatever I want :). 
> 
> There's a timestamp of sorts at the beginning of the fic, and that's in relation to the first chapter. Each chapter will have a timestamp to let you know when each thing is happening after chapter 1. So think of chapter 1 as like the beginning of the timeline, and then we're hopping around the rest of it. 
> 
> I couldn't think of a lot of characters that would go to the communications academy besides Daisy, so I put Piper and Davis in there just so she wouldn't be lonely, and because their relationships are hilarious.
> 
> In other news, one of my fics hit over 500 hits this week, which is a new record for me! If me trying to pre set the date on this fic doesn't work and you get it early, consider this a fun celebration/reward for being awesome.

*9 years and 10 months later*

“I feel ridiculous.” Daisy fiddled with the sleeve of her graduation gown, frowning. No high school needed to be this extravagant with their senior class, yet there she was. Full on graduation gown, complete with a cap and insane embarrassment.

Fitz shoved popcorn into his mouth, speaking around it. “You look ridiculous.” He glared at Jemma as she slapped him for talking with his mouth full. 

“Ugh I cannot believe they aren’t making you do this stupid ceremony.”

“We graduated ages ago, we had to do it then,” Jemma reminded her. “And we were a foot shorter than everyone else there, so you can imagine how we looked.”

“I was there.” Daisy glared at her phone. “Where is Trip, we’re supposed to suffer together.”

Fitz grabbed some more popcorn. “We’re here.” 

“Not in a literal gown though. _Antoine,_ on the other hand, should be here by now.” Another glare at her phone proved fruitless, and she groaned. “I am not showing up to this thing alone.” 

“We could get ours and put them on for solidarity,” Jemma offered. “Don’t look at me like that Fitz, we’d be supporting our friend.” 

“I’m _never_ putting that thing on again.” 

They heard someone knock on the door, and Daisy cheered. “That better not be the mailman and it better be Trip.” She listened as her dad opened the door and...yep, it was Trip. 

Two minutes later, he was standing in the doorway, his gown and cap tucked under his arm. “Hi.” 

“You’re late.” 

Trip grimaced, sitting down next to Fitz. “My grandma wanted photos.”

~

Daisy had a plan. Hear her name, walk across the stage, shake hands with a man who’s hated her for the past four years, wave to her parents, exit stage left. Simple.

After almost 10 years with some of the most patient people she’d ever known, she still hated public appearances. The ones where she didn’t have any control, at least. Dr. Garner said it was because of past trauma or whatever, which was probably true, but Daisy maintained that she just hated being a spectacle. It was more fun to be in charge, which was what she was looking forward to, sometime in the next four years. Taking charge of her best friends as an agent. 

Eight more people in line before her, and then she could sit with her parents and friends and start preparing for the academy. 

Seven more, and Daisy’s imagining what her dorm room would look like, far away from the shitty high school auditorium she was sitting in. 

Six, five, four, and she started to become grateful that she had changed her last name from Johnson to Coulson. Having a C name meant this would be over that much sooner.

Three, and people were clapping a lot louder for a basketball player as she walked across the stage like she owned it. 

Two, and Daisy was ready to jump out of her seat. 

One, and then, “Daisy Coulson!” 

Her dad was embarrassingly loud as she jogged across the stage, much faster than everyone else. So was Jemma, although that was probably backlash for the way Daisy had acted at _her_ graduation. 

The handshake with her (now former) principal was as awkward as expected, and it was really fun to act overly enthusiastic about the whole thing, just to tick him off. 

The roll of paper was lighter than expected, and Daisy almost crushed it when she lifted her arm to wave excessively at where her parents and friends were sitting. 

Walking off the stage was a relief, almost euphoric. She really was done with high school, with civilian life. Well, almost. 

Trip was still sitting with the rest of their class, but he leaned across some students to high five Daisy as she walked to the back. Her parents had chosen the seats closest to the exit, as per usual, and three more names were called before she reached them. 

“Congrats,” Phil whispered when she finally got to them, drawing his legs in so she could slide in between her mom and Jemma. Melinda took her diploma, and exchanged it for the packet Daisy had gotten in the mail a month earlier, saying her presence was requested as a freshman at the Communications Academy of S.H.I.E.L.D. in the fall. Way more important than graduating high school. 

Around the M’s, Fitz dragged the two girls outside into the hallway, claiming he wanted company to go to the vending machine. That, and he didn’t have any money and Jemma did.

“Seriously Fitz, bring your wallet places,” she chastised as he fed her dollar into the machine. 

“I have my wallet, it’s in the car.” 

Daisy laughed. “Dude, that’s a convertible. Someone is gonna steal your wallet.”

Jemma turned away from Fitz. “How did you convince your dad to let you drive Lola?”

“He said I deserved it. But it’ll be another ten years before I’m allowed to again. What name were they on when we left?”

“Matthews.” 

“We should get back so we can embarrass Trip.”

And they did that, cheering way too loud when his name was called. He waved to his grandma, before offering his friends a peace sign. Daisy glanced at his other hand, and busted out laughing. “He’s flipping us off, look!” 

~

“Dear Antoine Triplett, it is our pleasure to welcome you to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Operations Academy in August. Further details will be provided, please contact Deputy Director Maria Hill if you have questions before then. Blah blah blah, only share with close friends and family, blah blah.” Daisy set the paper she was reading from down, passing it back to its owner. “My letter was way more personal.”

“Yeah, because the woman who wrote it is basically your long term babysitter,” Trip argued, reading over his letter again. It was cute to see the dumb smile that crossed his face everytime he read it.

She screwed up her face in mock annoyance. “Long term babysitter? Seriously?”

“Seems like the most accurate description.” 

“Asshole.”

“Where are Fitz and Jemma?” 

Daisy glanced around the diner she had dragged them too, frowning when she didn’t see her British friends. “Making out in the bathroom?”

Trip scoffed. “As if.”

The bell on the door dinged, and Fitz and Jemma stormed in, both looking uncharacteristically upset. Fitz pushed in the booth next to Trip, and slammed down their yearbook.

“What the fuck?” Daisy was taken aback by his aggression, and shot Trip a look. 

Fitz opened up the yearbook, flipping through it as he spoke. “My mum gave me this, and look what they put for Daisy’s college.” 

They couldn’t say that they were going to S.H.I.E.L.D. because of security issues, so they had a bit of an issue when it came to the yearbook. Fitz and Jemma had been able to put their actual colleges when they graduated, and Trip had just scribbled down “marines.” Daisy, on the other hand, had not put down anything when asked, just to see what the yearbook committee decided to do with it. She glanced down at the page Fitz indicated. 

“Community college?” She snorted, on the verge of laughter. “God I wish I could say ‘yeah I’m going to be the person protecting you when aliens visit the Earth, but yeah, community college.’” 

Jemma frowned. “You’re not offended?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with community college. Besides, no one cares about yearbooks. I’m more offended that they used that pic, I look like one of the dog statue things from Ghostbusters.” 

Trip inspected her picture. “Yeah, you do.” 

Daisy threw a sugar packet at him. “You weren’t supposed to agree!” She perked up as the bell on the door dinged, then immediately slouched. “Shit.” 

Everyone else glanced up and then reacted similarly. “Why is he here?” Jemma hissed. 

“To congratulate us?” 

“If he did that for all the cadets he’d never get anything else done.”

“Shut up guys.”

“Fuck he’s coming over. I blame you guys.”

“This looks fun.” 

Daisy looked up, smiling sheepishly. “Hi Nick.”

Fury raised an eyebrow. “Nick?” 

“Sir,” she amended.

“What are we doing?” 

Trip cleared his throat. “Celebrating, sir.”

Fury nodded sagely, like Trip had just spoken scripture. “I’ll be over there in case you see an international fugitive.” He tilted his head to indicate a small table in the corner, where Maria Hill waved and a man with short blond hair played with straw wrappers, and then he left to join them. 

Fitz sighed with relief. “I can’t believe you want him to be your SO Daisy.”

“He’d be a good one. Dad liked him.”

~

Unpacking alone sucked ass. Not just because it was a shit ton of work to shove her life’s possessions into a singular room, it was lonely too. Sure, there were a lot of other cadets that didn’t have families there (government secrets and all), but there were enough with parents and siblings and friends to make Daisy more than a little sad. 

It wasn’t really anyone’s fault that she was alone. All her friends were moving into their respective dorms across the country, and her parents were in Spain on mission. Even if they hadn’t been gone, Daisy would’ve opted out of having them help. She didn’t want the pressure of being a legacy; after some deliberation, she had even written “Johnson” on her application just to make sure.

An hour into unpacking, and she was almost done. The only things left to unpack were towels and a few trinkets from home she hadn’t wanted to leave behind. Her room looked livable, although it had a distinct lack of posters compared to the one at home. Maria had said something once about people using posters to hide holes in the wall, which in turn hid contraband (see: booze). 

Someone tapped at the doorway. “Hi.”

Daisy turned to face a short girl with even shorter hair. “...Hi.” 

“I’m Piper.” Piper stuck her hand out.

“Daisy.” They shook, then stood awkwardly. At least Daisy knew someone now, instead of just wishing she was with her high school friends. 

“Um, anyways, if you need a study partner or something, I’m across the hall.” 

“Cool.” Piper backtracked into her room, effectively ending their conversation by yelling for a different cadet. Daisy shut her door, feeling like she was eight again, making friends at her new school. At least she had more social skills this time, and better conversation starters than “hi my name is Daisy and I’m an orphan.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to achieve some foreshadowing in this fic, albeit very vague foreshadowing. Next chapter should come out around the 22nd. 
> 
> Thank you for over 500 hits on one of my Philinda fics, it is very much appreciated. 
> 
> Feedback and requests for future chapters or just fics in general is welcome as always. AO3 is being annoying and not showing me accurate numbers for hits, bookmarks and comments, so I can't promise I'll see everything on time.


	3. Fake it Until I Make it (Ring True)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight year old Daisy makes some friends, and very clearly has some commitment issues. 
> 
> Chapter title from "OKAY OKAY" by Alessia Cara  
> 
> 
> *I suck ass at summaries*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, another chapter. I think I might start posting these on Fridays just because that seems to be the natural course this is taking. Also, who wants to do things on a Monday. 
> 
> I keep feeling like each chapter is supposed to have a whole plot shoved inside it until I remember that its a WIP and I can do whatever I want. So if this chapter is a little rushed in some places, that would be why. A lot of people (more like 1 or 2 but I can pretend) wanted more of Fitzsimmons and Trip so that's what I'm revving up to.
> 
> When I'm writing Younger Daisy I try to keep my language simpler, because 8 year olds don't talk the way I write, but I feel kinda iffy about that so if any of this sounds strange or different to my usual works, that would be why. I have this image in my head of like tiny Daisy sitting and listening to May and Coulson tell stories, so that was the inspiration for this fic. That, and my old neighborhood would have these block parties during the summer so I tried to emulate that vibe.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, a new one will probably come out on the 26th because I can't seem to want to post on Mondays.

*2 days later*

At all her previous homes, Daisy had found some way to keep track of the days she was with that family. Most of the time it was scratching or drawing little tick marks somewhere on the walls where no one would notice, or writing it in one of those small journals that social workers thought would help her “express her emotions.” They hadn’t given her one of those this time, and there was no way she was going to make Melinda and Phil mad by ruining their house, so Daisy’s dilemma on day three with the Coulsons was trying to find some way to keep track of how long it would take before she was sent back to the orphanage. 

A lot of the kids at St. Agnes had a record, the longest they’d ever spent with any family, whether they were fostered or adopted then sent back. One girl had stayed with a family for 453 days before being sent back, another kid spent almost three years with the same people until they decided that kids just weren’t right for them. Daisy’s record was six months exactly, which was pretty impressive for her; most of the time it was anywhere between three weeks and two months. 

In all her experience with new homes and families, she had never warmed up to one so quickly. It should’ve been a good thing, but whenever she liked a family, she got sent back even faster.

“Daisy, you okay?” Phil’s voice interrupted her search, which had migrated from her bedroom to the living room. Melinda and Phil had made her comfortable enough to search the house without fear of punishment, which was how she had been spending the past half an hour.

“I’m okay.”

He moved further into the room, sitting on the couch. “Whatcha looking for?” 

Daisy liked Phil. He didn’t talk to her like she was small or helpless, and he always asked her opinion before making a decision that would affect her. She didn’t want to lie. “Um, a journal or something.”

“Why?”

“I wanna keep track of the days.” 

“We could get you a calendar.”

Huh. “That would work.” 

Phil looked at her funny, before standing up and offering his hand. “C’mon, we can get you a calendar later.” 

Daisy hesitated, then grabbed his hand. Might as well make the most of it before it all came crashing down. 

They made their way into the kitchen, where Melinda was sitting, a bunch of papers laid out around her. 

"We wanted to talk to you about school."

“School?” 

Melinda frowned slightly. “You’ve been before, right?”

“Yes.” It was mandatory at St. Agnes for kids over five to go to school, not that Daisy ever enjoyed it.

“The school year starts back up in September, and we’re going to enroll you in the 3rd grade.” They weren’t giving her a choice this time, although she had expected that. Melinda had made it very clear when they first met that Daisy would have to go to school if she lived with them. 

“Okay.” 

Phil stared at her funny, which made her worry she had done something wrong. She had to go to school, fine she’d go, but they were at least an hour away from St. Agnes, so it would be a new school. With new people, new teachers. At least this time she could say she had a family, sort of. 

School starting in September meant Daisy had two months to get used to Melinda and Phil, if she even stayed that long. And she wanted to, really, but there was no way it was going to happen. 

~

Exploring was always her favorite part about being in a new home. Or any new place in general. And Melinda and Phil had a nice sized backyard, which they had given her full reign of. Her personal playground, kind of.

There were tall fences separating their backyard and the ones next to the house, but Daisy could still hear voices and sounds. Phil had told her that other kids lived near, in case she wanted to make friends before school started, but “making friends” had never come easy, so she wasn’t planning on it. She’d make do when the school year came. If she was there for that. 

By midday, she had climbed all the trees she could reach that were still in Melinda’s line of sight, made friends with a dog, and done the bare minimum by waving at a girl about her age she saw on the sidewalk. Melinda called her back in for lunch, which turned out to be some of the best grilled cheese Daisy had ever had. 

Sitting at the table, eating in silence, Daisy had never felt the need to _talk_ to a family more. “Did you make this?” 

The question was directed at Melinda, who stopped eating at her voice. Phil laughed, loud and openly, while his wife pressed her lips together like she was holding back a smile. Daisy ducked her head, feeling kind of left out. There was some joke in what she had just asked, but she didn’t know it. She hated being laughed at, but that wasn’t what this felt like. Still, she didn’t like it. 

“Sorry,” Phil said once he’d caught his breath. “It’s just that Melinda can’t cook. Like, at all.” 

Melinda gaped. “That’s an overstatement, I can cook _some_ things.” 

“Fine, some. But no, she didn’t make lunch, she would’ve burned it to a crisp.” 

“You’re making me sound bad.”

“Sorry.”

Daisy watched their conversation in wonder. Most of the married couples who fostered her thought that having a kid would save their failing marriage, and spent most of their time arguing about it. And everything else. Melinda and Phil though, they seemed like a unit, like they functioned perfectly with each other. She had seen it over the past two days, and hadn’t been able to pinpoint why it bothered her until now. 

“Daisy, you okay?” They asked that a lot. 

“Could you teach me?” The words came out before she could stop them, but she didn’t regret asking. Not yet, at least. 

Phil’s eyebrows scrunched up. “Teach you how to cook?” 

“Yeah. Yes,” Daisy corrected herself. “Yeah” got her in trouble, “yes” was the proper response. 

“Sure.” 

Phil and Melinda shared a look Daisy didn’t understand, so she went back to eating. 

~

The neighborhood became a lot more active once the sun went down, which Daisy thought was weird. She was used to everything shutting down after seven p.m., but more people were outside than earlier. It made her nervous, even though she was remaining on the porch with Melinda, who was quietly telling stories about the different places she and Phil had been. They’d gone almost everywhere, on “missions.” Daisy suspected those missions had to do with Maria and the eagle she saw on papers around their house. 

The girl she had waved to earlier was sitting in a small garden, staring at the flowers. There was a boy about her age with the girl, talking and moving his hands a lot. He seemed less interested in the flowers, and the girl seemed to be listening to him and doing whatever it was she was doing in the garden at the same time. 

Daisy kept watching them, trying to listen to Melinda and guess what they were doing at the same time. She couldn’t hear what the boy was saying; it was loud, he was across the street, and Melinda’s voice was distractingly soothing. But she guessed it was about plants, since neither of them had left the garden. Maybe they were siblings (they looked similar enough), or maybe just good friends. Best friends. 

Melinda stopped talking, and Daisy looked up, confused when she just smiled. “You should go say hi.” She gestured to the kids across the street. 

“I wanna stay here.” It was true, and not just because of her fear of meeting new people. She liked the stories, and let Melinda know as much. 

“I appreciate that, but you should make friends.”

Daisy didn’t bother with a response, none of them would be good enough. Instead she picked at the peeling paint on the porch, gently enough so that it didn’t fully come off. 

Phil backed out of the house, staring intently at the three glasses he was carrying. He set one down in front of Daisy, grinning when she muttered a thank you. She drank some: it was lemonade, sweet and delicious and perfect for late July. 

“Oh, looks like I didn’t get enough.” Daisy’s head shot up to see the two kids from across the road hopping up the porch steps. Phil slid back inside, promising to get them some lemonade, and Melinda followed, brushing her hand along Daisy’s back as she left. 

The girl smiled widely. “I’m Jemma. And this is-”

“Fitz,” the boy interrupted. “I’m Fitz.” 

They both had accents Daisy had only heard on TV, and funny names. “I’m Daisy.”

“Are Phil and Melinda your parents?” Jemma elbowed Fitz after he spoke. 

“No, I don’t have parents.” 

They fell silent at that, and Daisy immediately regretted it. 

Fitz sat down next to her after a moment, patting her leg. “I don’t have a dad.” 

Jemma sat down too, and they sat in silence as an awkward cloud settled over the porch. The paint on the porch seemed to interest Fitz too, and it wasn’t until Phil and Melinda came back out with more drinks that Daisy decided to at least try. 

“What were you guys doing with the flowers?” 

Jemma perked up. “I found some caterpillars on one of my plants and I was watching them to see what they would do, and Fitz was telling me about a book he read.”

“Can I see? The bugs, not the book.” She didn’t necessarily like bugs, but she liked the idea of watching smaller life. 

With approval from Melinda, they left the lemonade and crossed the street to get to what was apparently Jemma’s garden. She pointed out the window that belonged to her bedroom, and Daisy could see the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling through the curtains. 

The caterpillar was pretty, all black and orange and white. Jemma went on about what kind of butterfly it might turn into, while Daisy and Fitz just watched it chew leaves. Small lights scattered around the garden blinked on as the sun set behind the houses. 

Fitz and Jemma were more than happy to talk about themselves, and Daisy learned a lot: Fitz was Scottish, Jemma was British, he liked building things, she liked looking at plants and animals and something called cuttlefish. They even managed to get Daisy to admit that she liked computers and action movies, and that she was kind of excited to go to school. Only kind of, and definitely not as excited as Jemma. 

“She’s one of those annoying people who _likes school,_ ” Fitz murmured. He grinned widely when Daisy laughed. 

It was only when she was trying to fall asleep that night when she realized her mistake: she was genuinely attached now. Attached to the people, the neighborhood, to Melinda and Phil. And wanting to be someplace never ended well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next Friday! Feedback and requests are welcome as per usual. 
> 
> Next week we're back at the academy with 18 year old Daisy, so to all of you who come back for each chapter, get ready. Keep your expectations exactly where they are, I don't want to make any promises.
> 
> Side note: I was checking my stats as one does and I hit over 5,000 hits (overall, not on a fic I'm not that popular) and thank yall so fucking much for that and for all your nice comments.


	4. The Bonding Period

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at the academy! *airhorn noises* Most of my ideas for this fic are for Small Daisy and then her as an agent, so academy chapters might be a little rushed. I've mostly been reading other academy fics for inspiration, so hopefully I'll get some more ideas.
> 
> So I know that technically Piper would be at the operations academy because she was on the strike team but I couldn't think of anyone else that would be communications and I wanted to give Daisy a friend. We do get more Trip & Daisy feels, and I'm going to try to satisfy all you Trip/Daisy shippers out there because it's a ship I can get behind for the most part. 
> 
> Am I questioning getting Ward and Daisy together? Yes. If I take the tag off, then you'll know. 
> 
> And yes I am aware that technically the science academy isn't sci-ops but I was getting tired of typing science and technology over and over so I took creative liberties. *Edit: this is me from the future here to say that a very nice commenter gave me a solve so thank you to that person*

“Welcome to the Science and Technology branch of the academy, though everyone calls us Sci-Tech.” The agent speaking was textbook nerd: a collared shirt under a crewneck sweater, complete with Harry Potter style glasses. His only non nerdy trait so far was the streak of hot pink in his short cropped hair. He was accompanied by two fourth year cadets who claimed they were there for an extra credit, which earned them laughs from the group and a glare from the pink haired agent. 

Daisy hadn’t been surprised when her and her classmates had been ushered off to tour Sci-Tech, or that they would be visiting Operations a few days after. According to her dad (and Maria and Fury), they tried to integrate Communications cadets with the rest as quickly as possible so that working relationships could be established early and blah blah blah. She already had a team, they just needed to graduate. Sometimes being close to the director was nice. 

The tour took them all over the campus, and told them mostly about the various functions of the kinds of agents Sci-Tech produced. Communications agents were expected to run field ops almost right out of the academy, so the information was based around that idea.

“While some agents do join the field,” the agent continued, “it’s uncommon. We tend to like our labs, although don’t mistake that for being incompetent. Weapons training is taught and everyone must be at least proficient in it to graduate.” Daisy tried not to smirk at the idea of Jemma with a gun to someone’s head. 

The first building they went into was an all purpose lab type thing, full of cadets and agents. It was noisy as fuck, although the sound of two people bickering was front and center in the noise. The arguing sounded familiar, like every argument Daisy had sat through for the past nine years. Well shit. 

“I’d like you to meet two of our best cadets.” A month in and they’d already risen to the top. She wasn’t surprised. 

They were ushered into a spacious lab, only occupied by Daisy’s favorite people, still bickering about something or other. 

“Fitzsimmons, we have company,” the agent called out. Fitzsimmons. Huh.

Jemma looked up, and beamed. “Daisy!” She rushed forward, nearly knocking Daisy over with a hug. 

“..Hi. Jesus, you really missed me huh.” 

“She kept talking about you, it’s like I’m invisible,” Fitz called out. He hadn’t moved from their work station, and had a whispered conversation with the tour guide. 

Jemma pulled away. “Your dad sent flowers, they were lovely. He said he’d try to come by, but-” 

“How would your dad be able to drop by? Aren’t only S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel allowed around the academies?” Daisy didn’t see who spoke; she hadn’t really bothered to learn anyone but Piper’s name, considering everyone else was way less interesting so far. 

“Oh! Her dad is-”

“Jemma, they don’t know,” Daisy hissed. “I go by Johnson.” 

“Oh. Well then, Cadet _Johnson_ , would you like a tour?”

Piper coughed loudly from her spot with the group. “We’d like to see the place too.” 

“Of course.” 

Fitzsimmons’s tour was a lot more wordy than the pink haired agent’s, and consisted mostly of Jemma cutting Fitz off so she could tell Daisy stories, much to the chagrin of her superior. 

“They all call me Simmons, except when I’m with Fitz, then we’re Fitzsimmons. You were right, Daisy, Fitzsimmons does sound good. You’ll have to start calling me Simmons, I suppose.” 

“If only you had let me call you that in high school.”

It was only when the leading agent stopped them by a vending machine to answer questions that Simmons got to ask, “Why Johnson?”

“Same reason Trip doesn’t tell people who his grandfather is. Also, if people start saying I’m here because of nepotism my career will be over before it starts.” 

“Smart.”

“Try not to sound so surprised.” Daisy punched her friend lightly. “How are _Fitzsimmons_ doing at Sci-Ops?”

Jemma grinned. “We’re great, we get to actually _do_ things instead of just learning. Fitz has already started working on building the designs we showed you a couple months ago, and I’m helping him with the chemistry parts. What about you, how’s Communications?”

“Fun, I’m hacking S.H.I.E.L.D. but it’s not illegal this time.”

“They’re teaching you how to hack your own organization?”

“Sort of, it’s complicated. I did get to hack the CIA though, that was fun. My grandma might kill Mom for it.”

“Please tell me you didn’t hack your grandmother.”

Daisy grimaced, the expression falling when Jemma gaped, and turning into laughter. “Do you want me to lie?”

“You’re so dead.” Jemma glanced around as someone asked a question about current projects or something. “Are they having you do anything else besides pissing off CIA agents?”

“Combat, some basic S.H.I.E.L.D. history, and, believe it or not, _actual school stuff._ I thought I had escaped it, but apparently we need to be properly educated or something. I bet Trip doesn’t have to do calculus.”

“Hey, I’m doing school stuff.”

“By choice.”

“Fair.”

“Ms. Johnson, we’re leaving now,” Daisy’s SO called, snapping her fingers impatiently. All cadets had the same four or five SOs until they graduated and got real ones as Level 1 agents. 

Daisy squeezed Jemma’s hands, waving to Fitz simultaneously. “She already hates me,” she whispered, indicating her SO.

“Already pissing off authority figures, good job. Call, for real this time, yeah?”

“You first.” She jogged off, joining Piper in the back of the group, casting one last look at her friends. They had already gone back into their lab, the bickering no doubt starting up again. Nerds. 

Piper elbowed her as they dug out the IDs that would let them pass through security. “What was that about?”

“Fitzsimmons and I live like right next to each other.” 

“Old friends type shit?”

“Yep.” They showed their IDs to the security guards; the only agents with sidearms that Daisy had seen on the entire campus. Which seemed a tad unsafe, considering that most of the students were probably terrified to even pick up a gun. But who was she to comment on the ways of a government organization full of spies and geniuses. 

~ 

“Daisy!”

Piper groaned. “Seriously, you’re old friends with a dude from Operations too?”

“I like to keep myself well rounded.” Daisy waved at Trip from across the mats, using the movement to silently survey the rest of the Operations cadets.

Someone had decided that the best way to build relationships between Operations and Communications was to have them spar, for some reason. It was obvious from the borderline bloodlust looks on the Operations cadets’ faces that they were looking forward to beating up some nerds, and Daisy was curious who had come up with this bonding activity. An Operations agent, most likely. 

She was looking forward to fucking with smug idiots, and she could tell from her classmates’ expressions that they were too. Every last one of them spent down time training, if not for being in the field then for this: beating up Operations cadets. 

One cadet looks especially smug in particular, some tall douchebag standing in the corner. He kept eyeing Daisy like she was a museum exhibit and it was creeping her out. As much as she wanted to spar with Trip like they did all the time, it would be fun to kick this creeper’s ass. 

Piper elbowed her, then gestured to a different cadet, equally as tall as the douchebag but way nicer looking. “At least I’ve got an old friend here too.” 

“Who’s that?”

“Davis.”

He seemed like a good fighter, the kind of person you’d want to watch your six. “How do you know him?”

“I’m friends with his girlfriend. I swear those two are so fucking sappy it makes me want to hurl sometimes.” 

“And aren’t those the best kinds of relationships?” Daisy grinned when Davis finally caught Piper’s eye and they had a silent argument that involved a lot of hand waving. 

“Cadets, focus up!” Oh _fuck._

Daisy watched with apprehension as Maria Hill moved into the center of the mat, looking authoritative as hell. Based on the looks everyone else had, they were just as surprised she was there, even the Operations jerks. Daisy was just barely registering that she was probably very fucked in some way. 

“Since you all are supposed to work together and respect each other for the next four years and hopefully long after that, sparring is a good way to solidify that respect. Operations cadets, do not make the mistake of underestimating our Communications friends. Or do, it’s your funeral.” 

Hill was effectively tuned out by at least half of the cadets as she explained the rules: tap outs only, don’t use fatal strikes or knock anyone out, blah blah. Anyone with more than maybe four brain cells had figured that shit out already, and Daisy returned to her task of sizing up the Operations cadets. Most of them seemed burly and annoying, although some looked promising. There were about as many girls as there were boys, and they all had the same uniform on: a sort of jumpsuit thing that looked uncomfortable as hell. 

She was desperately trying to ignore the story bouncing around in her head, the one her dad liked to tell all the time. 

_“We met when the Communications cadets were sent to spar with Operations-”_

_“And I kicked his ass.”_

_“That- well yeah, that happened.”_

_“It was hilarious.”_

_“It was not!”_

_“No one thinks less of you because of it.”_

_“You certainly don’t.”_

_“Phil. Shut up.”_

None of these idiots were worth _that_ particular memory, except maybe Trip, but that endeavor had lasted all of a week. Dating your best friend was not as glamorous as it looked. But this event was basically deja vu of Phil and Melinda’s first meeting, which was kind of scary. Having S.H.I.E.L.D. legends as parents was hard enough, but said parents were also soulmates-could-be-real level of perfect for each other. Which was equally pressurizing, if only to Daisy. And she was about to kick some rando’s ass and _really_ did not need to be thinking about _this._

Maria stepped off the mats, and checked a small piece of paper. “Piper and….Grant. You’re up.”

“Aw shit,” Piper mumbled as the tall douche Daisy had seen earlier stalked into the middle. 

Daisy squeezed her arm. “Kick ass.”

“He’s a foot taller than me but sure, kick ass.” 

The match lasted way longer than anyone probably expected; Grant had apparently gotten himself a reputation as being virtually unbeatable, and Piper was steadily proving that wrong. Grant was strong and tall, but he moved slow and his moves were dangerously predictable. The cadets watching switched between watching like it was golf and yelling at Piper and Grant like they were at a basketball game. Daisy mostly tried to catalogue Grant’s weaknesses to get a sense of Operations training so she could win her match. Or maybe he had been trained by someone else, because a lot of his classmates seemed confused at his methods. 

It ended with Grant tapping out from exhaustion, and Piper receiving heavy applause from Communications, as well as Trip and Davis, the latter of which was rolling his eyes while he clapped. Piper punched his shoulder before grabbing a water bottle and guzzling two thirds of it in about 10 seconds and making her way back over to Daisy. Grant stalked off back into his corner, effectively ignoring everyone. Sore fucking loser.

“You kicked ass, good job.”

“That was fun.” 

Maria called the next pair, and they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Two cadets would spar, and the rest would treat it like the match of the century. There was a pretty equal balance of Communications and Operations cadets that won, which only bothered a few people on either side. Operations turned out to not be total assholes, which was nice considering that Daisy would probably end up bossing them around later on. Insubordination, according to her parents, was not fun to deal with.

She was paired up with Trip (thank you Maria), and their match was the most fun she’d had in months. It was so incredibly familiar to be sparring with her best friend, even if it meant their fight going on much longer than it should have, with everyone else getting increasingly excited and impatient at the same time. 

“You’re getting better,” Daisy noted, blowing a stray hair out of her face. She _really_ needed to cut it. Maybe bangs or something. 

Trip grinned, jumping on his feet. “I would hope so, otherwise all this nonstop training has been for nothing.”

“Found a better sparring partner yet?” 

“Nope.”

“Good.”

She won, of course, and Trip laughed from his pinned spot when she did. “Nice one.” 

Daisy hauled him up, matching his smile. “I’ve been practicing too.”

~

It was only when Daisy had completed her shower (Communications had convinced their SO that they were not riding on a jet whilst sweaty and disgusting) that Maria decided to pull her to the side.

"How are you doing?"

"Good, you won't be poaching me, I like Communications."

Maria crossed her arms. "Not why we're talking."

Oh. _Ooh._ "Is this about my last name?" Daisy grimaced as Hill nodded in confirmation.

"Coulson was a little sad when I told him, not gonna lie."

"See, I know who you're talking about, because I'm not using the same name. Mom still goes by May."

"Point taken. But why won't you let them visit?"

Daisy sighed, copying Maria's crossed arms. "I don't want anyone treating me all special because of who my parents are. I'll stop by to see them when they take us to the Hub, I promise."

"You better, because May will kick my ass if you don't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *more airhorn noises*
> 
> I'm not that good at writing fight scenes since I myself have not been in many fights. I'm working on that (the writing, not the fighting thing).
> 
> This fic has over 800 hits, which, wtf. Thank yall so much, I really do appreciate it. Feedback and requests are welcome as always (I already got a really good idea from a comment on chapter 3 so thank you to that person). I just wanna clarify that feedback can 100% mean constructive criticism about pacing, grammar, whatever. As long as you aren't a dick about it. 
> 
> Next chapter should be March 5th if my math is correct, but I'm not that good at math, so just expect it next Friday, whatever date that may be. Honestly I'm counting the days of the week by when the next WandaVision episode comes out, so dates are meaningless.


	5. Falling in Spite of the Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet young Antoine Triplett, and Daisy falls more in love with her new family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trumpet fanfare* As of March 5th, this fic has over 1200 hits!!! Holy shit guys, and we're only on chapter five. 
> 
> This chapter is straight from a childhood memory of mine, which was really boring for me at the time, so I tried to nix the more boring parts. This is mostly Daisy learning about the Fitzsimmons dynamic and then meeting Trip, but I think it's cute so sue me. It's also kind of short, so I apologize for that. I also 100% think young Fitzsimmons would fight constantly, purely based on s6 ep9 with Baby Simmons. I hope yall enjoy!
> 
> Side note: I know jack shit about science, but Jemma Simmons would 100% exaggerate her abilities as a young scientist gal. I will be doing research as this progresses, but for now I know the bare minimum.

Daisy had figured out a long time ago that she was good enough at pretending to listen to someone. She could nod and pretend to be interested, all while tuning everything out. A necessary tactic when you often slept in the same room as 12 other girls who liked to talk a lot. 

Needless to say, she was having a lot more trouble tuning Fitz out than she should’ve. He was her friend and she didn’t want to be mean, but remote control cars weren’t that interesting after hour three of hearing about them. It was impressive that he’d been able to actually build one from scratch, but hearing about circuits and wires and the other longer words he had rambled about made her feel kind of stupid.

“...and then I had to work really hard to get the remote to connect, but Mum found a video and-”

“Fitz, we don’t want to hear about your car,” Jemma cut in, shooting him a glare. Sometimes the bluntness that she and Fitz took with each other made Daisy nervous, before they would start laughing and remind her that they were best friends.

He pouted, putting the car down and fiddling with the remote. After a minute he held it out to Daisy cautiously. “Do you wanna drive it then?”

Daisy took the remote hesitantly, paying rapt attention to Fitz as he explained what each button did. If she broke his possession she would never forgive herself. 

The car itself was easy to drive, and it was fun to maneuver it around random obstacles on the sidewalk. Fitz kept chattering on about the mechanics while Jemma provided commentary every once in a while on whatever she saw around them that interested her. Which was a lot. Daisy mostly kept quiet, letting the people more willing to talk fill up the silence as she drove the car around peoples’ legs. The small smiles of strangers watching them felt weird but good.

“Daisy, can you bring the car back?” She answered Fitz’s question by doing just that before dropping the control in his lap. 

Melinda and Phil had been excited when Daisy asked to go over to Jemma’s house that morning, so much so that she had left all that much faster to avoid their proud smiles. She’d realized on the short walk across the street that if anyone asked her to explain why she had left so fast, she’d have no answer. Not one that made sense to anyone else. But she was trying to force that thought from her mind as she sat on the grass with her first friends, actually enjoying herself. 

Fitz popped the wheels off his car, muttering something about speed. “Stupid wheels.”

“It worked fine to me,” Daisy murmured. It came out before she could stop herself, and she instantly regretted it.  _ What if he got mad and they asked her to leave- _

“I’m sure it did but I want it to go  _ faster. _ Trip wants to race and I wanna beat him.”

“Trip?”

Jemma nudged her and pointed to the house two doors to the left of hers. “Antoine Triplett, everyone calls him Trip. We’re friends.” She poked Fitz when he scoffed. 

“He has his own car and we’re gonna race. You can watch and help see who won, if you want.” Fitz looked up from his dismantled car and smiled. “Of course, it won’t be hard, because I’m gonna win.”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “You’re going to jinx yourself.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in jinxes!”

“I  _ don’t, _ but if you keep expecting yourself to win, you won’t.”

“That makes  _ no _ sense.”

“Neither does being cocky!”

“I’m not being cocky-”

Daisy watched their argument with wonder. It wasn’t really about anything, and neither of them seemed mad, yet they were arguing. She didn’t feel scared like she usually did when people raised their voices; instead, she wanted to laugh. The argument was so useless that it was funny, especially because both Fitz and Jemma were so invested in it. 

“Daisy, tell Fitz that I’m right. He’s not gonna win just because he says he will!”

It took her a second to revel in the fact that she was being included before saying, “I think he’ll win.”

Fitz high fived her. “Thank you! Two beats one, Jemma.”

“What about two versus two?”

“Unless I got very bad at math, there’s three of us.”

“Not anymore.” Jemma lifted up her arm to wave at the house she had indicated to Daisy earlier. A boy about their age with dark skin and a really big smile hopped off the porch, mirroring Jemma’s wave. Trip, most likely.

“Hey, Trip!” Fitz grumbled under his breath at Jemma’s excitement. 

Trip sat down, sprawling his legs out. “Hi Jemma, hi Fitz. Who are you?” His tone wasn’t unkind, but the question made Daisy flinch nonetheless. 

“This is Daisy, she lives with the Coulsons now.”

“I’m Trip.” He stuck his hand out, and Daisy took it carefully. “Phil’s nice.”

“I know.” She really did; over the past four days, Phil had been the kindest foster dad she’d ever had. Too bad it was all going to end at some point.

“Cool. Fitz are you ready to lose?”

“No, I’m not  _ gonna _ lose. Daisy thinks so too.”

“Well, I’ll have to prove the new girl wrong. C’mon.”

Jemma stuck with Daisy, trailing behind the boys as they got up to go somewhere unknown to her. Trip had a car too, smaller than Fitz’s but much newer and more impressive looking. Fitz assured her that he would win anyways.

Daisy opened her mouth to ask, but Jemma beat her to it. “Fitz built a race track or something, we’re going to his house.” 

“He built a race track?”

“He likes to build stuff. I mean technically this was a set he got from the store, but he built the car.” 

Wow. “Cool.”

“Right?” 

“And you like bugs and stuff?”

Jemma laughed. “Biology. I’m going to be a biologist and study cuttlefish. They have these chromatophores that-”

“Jemma, don’t bore her with cuttlefish,” Fitz called out. “No one else cares about your fish.”

“You say that now, but just wait until I figure out how to use them to change the color of the sky or something.”

Trip frowned. “How would you even do that?”

“I’ll figure it out.” Jemma tilted her head up in full confidence, like she was sure she’d be able to do something like that. It was impressive.

Fitz’s house was just as big as Melinda and Phil’s from the outside, but it felt smaller on the inside. Maybe it was the fact that there was stuff  _ everywhere, _ or that there was a permanent homey smell, or that there were pictures of Fitz and his mom all over, some of which included Jemma and Trip. Daisy immediately liked it and Fitz even more. 

His bedroom felt the exact same way, only it was somehow way messier. There was indeed a race track, and everything around it had been shoved to the side, which made entering his room impossible. 

Jemma wrinkled her nose. “Fitz, this place is a mess.” 

He sneered. “Well, I’m sorry, we can’t all be Miss Perfect and Clean, can we.” Daisy glanced at Trip, and he nodded as if to say “ _ yes, they do this all the time. _ ”

She cleared her throat, deciding to try something. “Are you guys gonna fight the whole time?”

They both answered at the same time with a resolute, “No,” and effectively shut up. Daisy felt a mix of relief and pride: relief because no one yelled at her, pride because she got her friends to stop fighting. And because she felt actually included, like she had friends.

The actual car race event wasn’t as exciting as everyone had made it out to be. Trip and Fitz piloted their cars around Fitz’s track while Daisy and Jemma watched in rapt silence. Fitz won, and his gloating was by far more entertaining than the cars themselves.

“I told you! There’s no such thing as a  _ jinx. _ ”

“Shut up Fitz.”

He continued drawing out his win, albeit quieter than before. “Told you so.”

Daisy observed how Trip didn’t seem all that sad about losing, even though it was being thoroughly rubbed in his face. He seemed to take Fitz’s teasing well, and even asked him to make his car better. That was when she lost interest, because the tiny engine of a tiny car was one of the most boring things she could think to talk about. Or listen to someone talk about. 

Jemma seemed to agree. “Can we talk about something else?”

“What, like your stupid fish?”

“Fitz, please-”

Trip elbowed Daisy, grinning. “How many times have they yelled at each other so far?”

“Just today? Like six.” She couldn’t help but match his smile with one of her own. 

“They do that all the time, don’t worry.” Huh. So he could see that their constant bickering was scaring her. Only a little, because she knew better, but still.

Trip continued, “They both wanna work together as fancy scientists or something.”

“What about you?”

“I wanna fight bad guys, like my grandad.” His smile grew bigger somehow. “You?”

“Same thing I guess.” The future wasn’t really something Daisy thought about when she hardly ever knew where she would be sleeping.

~

Phil looked up when Daisy came in, as if he’d been expecting her. Which he probably had been, all things considered. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi.”

“How was your day?”

“Good, I met Trip.”

“Oh good. He’s a good kid.” He frowned at how she cringed. It wasn’t his fault; how was he supposed to know that “good kid” was a label she had strived for ever since she understood what it meant, and that it never happened no matter how hard she tried.

Desperate to change the subject, Daisy glanced around. “Where’s Melinda?”

“She had to go to work, there was an emergency.”

“Oh. When will she be back?” It’s not that she didn’t like Phil (she did, really), but Melinda had a calm energy that Daisy had begun to rely on, whether she knew it or not.

Phil smiled sympathetically, like he knew what she was thinking and felt the same way. “She’ll be here when you wake up, don’t worry.”

“So she’s not coming back today?” 

“Sorry kiddo.” Again, her emotions were mirrored on his face. Of course they would be; he and Melinda were married and Daisy had only known her for four days. He probably missed her too.

He seemed to notice her expression and smiled warmly. “This happens a lot, for both of us, but we can still have fun, yeah?”

“Both of you?”

“Our work requires us to have weird hours, but we always come back.” 

Oh.  _ How had he known..? _

Phil smiled again, and Daisy decided that he could read minds. It seemed that way whenever he and Melinda were together, and apparently he knew exactly what she was worried about. Definitely the best foster dad so far.  _ Crap. _

~

Daisy had never been a light sleeper, so she was not surprised at all that Melinda coming home woke her up. She was surprised, however, by the fact that Melinda came into her room minutes after shutting the front door. 

“Hey, I didn’t scare you did I?”

She shook her head before remembering that it was pitch black. “No.”

Melinda sat down, dropping a bag onto the floor. “Phil said you’d probably want to see me when I got back.” 

“I think he can read minds.” Daisy wanted to take it back as soon as she said it, but was surprised by the older woman laughing. 

“Sometimes it feels that way. Did you have a good day?”

Phil and Melinda asked that  _ a lot. _ “Yeah. I met Trip.”

“Good.” Melinda paused, then stood up. “Good night Daisy.”

“Good night.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See yall on the 12th! I still cannot believe the amount of support I am getting, so seriously: THANK YOU!! *this is very aggressive happy yelling btw* 
> 
> As always, all feedback, constructive criticism and requests are greatly appreciated. 
> 
> I might start having less time in between when I post chapters, depending on the amount of shit I have to do besides writing for fun. I shall update you next time :)


	6. Creative Slip-Ups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again, another Friday, another chapter. 
> 
> This one has some light foreshadowing for a future plot I have planned, so I will leave you to speculate on what that could be. It also ends on somewhat of a cliffhanger, but it's a lame one because you know everything's going to be fine. I tried to exaggerate things based on how Daisy would be feeling, so just keep that in mind. I'm not getting to the big stuff quite yet. 
> 
> There is a topic I want to discuss: OCs. I don't really like adding them, because they make me feel awkward for some reason, but its inevitable with AU fics like these. So, you'll meet probably the first of many OCs in this fic today, so yay I guess. Just be warned that OCs might not have the best character building because I don't really like writing them.
> 
> Anyways, I hope yall enjoy this chapter and come back for more!

“There is no way in hell you would survive more than like six weeks undercover!”

“Agree to disagree. I would kill it undercover.”

Piper scoffed, following it with a laugh when Max flipped her off. “You’re conveniently forgetting how the SO _instantly_ knew you had contraband just from looking at you.”

“That was purely bad timing. I’m still gonna apply for a deep undercover op, and I’m going to _kill_ it.” Max glanced around. “What about you, Daisy? What position do you want?”

Daisy leaned back, considering him. Max was one of the few cadets she could stand; he wasn’t cocky or aggressive, and he was a good sparring partner. 

His question was one she had thought through for a long time, once her parents had explained S.H.I.E.L.D. and what they did. She wanted a job where she could have control, but not so much that people expected too much from her. She wanted to be in the field, but also be able to run ops and work in the shadows. And having a high security clearance would be good too. So it wasn’t hard for her to answer, “Deputy director.”

Piper coughed around her water. “What?”

“I think it would be fun.”

“You think it would be fun to work right next to Nick Fury all the fucking time?”

“Yeah. I’d have a super high clearance level too.”

Max laughed. “You either have a great temper or are suicidal, but good luck.” 

Daisy bowed her head dramatically, laughing when she came back up. “What about you Piper?”

“The strike team would be cool. That’s where Davis wants to be, and I’d get to boss him around all the time.”

“And that’s your sole life purpose?”

“Yes.”

“As long as we’re on the same page.” Daisy reached for her phone as it buzzed, and frowned. She clicked it off before anyone else could see, turning the ringer off as well. 

“Ooh, who was calling you?” Max leaned forward to grab her phone, and failed miserably. Daisy kicked him away, literally, rolling her eyes when he doubled over exaggeratedly. 

“Just my dad.”

“I think you broke my spleen.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works. I’ll drive you to the hospital though, if you want.”

“I’ll survive, but I appreciate that. Why aren’t you answering your dad?”

 _Because I really don’t want anyone to know who he is._ “I just don’t want to talk to him right now, he’s overprotective sometimes.”

Max raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure he _loves_ that you joined a spy agency.”

“He’s cool with it, he just worries.” She was good enough at lying, but telling part of the truth was easier. Phil did worry, but she was omitting the part about how he worked for the very same agency. And was one of Fury’s right hands.

It was a given that future spies would be nosy about secrets, and every day she was finding less and less reasons to keep it a secret, at least from her friends. Of course there would always be people who would potentially complain about nepotism, and the whole, “yeah I’m adopted” story was never a fun ride, but Piper and Max, at least, were reliable. Daisy was confident that they would be cool with it, but she couldn’t ever find a good time to just bust out with “hey my parents are S.H.I.E.L.D. legends.”

Her phone vibrated again, disrupting her thoughts. Assuming it was her dad, she grabbed it, only to find a different number flashing across the screen. It was an unknown number, which rarely ever happened. Daisy didn’t give her number to strangers; she hardly gave it to people she knew. “Piper, do you have paper?”

“Yeah sure.” She passed a notebook over, along with a pen. “What for?”

“I don’t know this number, I’m gonna look it up later.”

“It could just be spam.”

“Still.” She finished up scribbling down the number, then declined the call. “We should probably focus, I do not want to be failing a class in month two.”

Piper rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. “I hate this class, it’s useless.”

“Not useless, just tedious. I hope I never have to deal with politics, or politicians.” 

“I think it’s fun, being able to mess with people who think they’re above the law,” Max commented, scribbling down an answer onto his paper. He swatted Daisy away when she attempted to lean in and copy it. 

“You suck.”

“Yep.”

~

“Back so soon?” 

“You say that like you’re not glad to see me.”

“Who said I was?”

Daisy punched Trip in the shoulder. “Jackass.”

“Ow.” He rubbed his shoulder, both of them ignoring the looks they got from Operations cadets. “Do you know what we’re doing today?”

“Something interesting I hope. I _hate_ learning about politics.” 

“I hate getting beat up constantly, some of these guys don’t understand the concept of teamwork.”

Daisy scoffed, glancing around as they started walking to some unknown destination. “‘ _Specialists work alone,’_ remember? And are there somehow less of you?”

“Maria wasn’t kidding about the washouts.” He glared at a group of cadets that looked like they were pretending to be the jocks in a coming of age movie. “Unfortunately the assholes aren’t the ones who leave.”

She mimicked his expression in silent support, trusting that whatever animosity Trip had with his fellow cadets was justified, on his part at least. 

They continued walking around the Operations campus, which Daisy knew fairly well based off of the tour they took the last time Communications visited, and based on Trip’s lengthy descriptions over phone calls. Their tour guide last time had told them that the uniforms were supposed to create a sense of unity or something, but they made Daisy more nervous than anything. She and her classmates stuck out like sore thumbs, being the only people not wearing stupid uniforms, and it was causing a lot of unwanted attention.

“I feel like I’m a zoo animal.”

“I think we’ve got peanuts somewhere.”

“Asshole. What do you guys do all day, besides get beat up? I can’t think of any reason why Operations lasts four fucking years, you guys just punch stuff.” 

Trip pursed his lips. “It’s a lot of training, some ethics stuff about being a part of a team and all that, and then a couple classes on S.H.I.E.L.D. history and basic math and shit. They’ve got to make sure we don’t go dumb.”

Daisy eyed some of the older cadets. “Some of these guys might be a lost cause for that.”

“Amen.”

Their walk ended in an auditorium that looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Why Operations had an auditorium was beyond Daisy’s comprehension, but since it hadn’t been on their last tour, she assumed it was barely used. That assumption was backed up by the fact that the seats looked like they would fall apart if you so much as touched them, and the curtains on the moldy looking stage were basically dust. “Have you been here before?”

Trip shook his head, looking as confused as her. “I thought this was an abandoned building they hadn’t torn down yet or something.”

“I really hope the air isn’t infected with mold or anything.”

“That would be an incredibly sad way to die.” Daisy whirled around to face Piper, who was standing uncomfortably close. She moved past Daisy, sticking out her hand for Trip. “I’m Piper.”

“Trip.” He smiled wide, and Daisy stuck her hand in her mouth in disgust behind Piper’s back. 

“She talks about you. From what I hear, you’re cool.”

“Really, I was sure she’d be talking shit about me.”

Daisy cleared her throat. “Just to be clear, that happens too.”

Piper was very obviously about to respond with something rude, before she gazed behind Trip and stopped short. “Oh shit, that’s why we’re here.”

Daisy caught what, or more accurately _who,_ she was looking at, before deciding that the Universe did indeed hate her. “Motherfucker.” 

“Oh. Um...Piper, do you wanna sit?” Trip shot her a look, before graciously escorting Piper onto a seat that somehow didn’t fall to pieces. It was a little shocking how quickly he could go from being a jackass to being very, very helpful.

Drifting into a corner unnoticed was easier than she expected it to be, and it allowed her to collect herself enough not to look incredibly and thoroughly fucked. Part of her knew that having famous S.H.I.E.L.D. agents visit cadets was normal, and the other part 100% blamed Maria Hill for the fact that _Melinda May_ was standing on an old ass stage, about to pretend that she wasn’t in the presence of one of her favorite people. And Daisy would have to pretend too, which was going to be a lot harder for her than her mom. She wasn’t even a full blown spy yet. 

She could conjure up the conversation Melinda had most likely had with Maria before agreeing to do this, because she’d heard it many times. 

_“I don’t like speaking engagements Maria. Or showing myself off.”_

_“We just need someone to encourage these idiots. Make way for a new generation so we can push you to retirement sooner.”_

Except this time it probably came with the additional:

 _“Daisy’s going to be there, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, or make_ me _uncomfortable..”_

_“You’re both big girls, you can handle it.”_

It was easier to think about _that_ as Daisy made her way over to her friends, who had been joined by Max in the 90 seconds it took her to calm herself. Piper looked at her funny as she sat down, Max seemed indifferent, and Trip just squeezed her hand lightly before turning to Piper to tell her about something stupid Daisy did, probably. Bless him. 

“This seems really dramatic, just so some agent person can tell us about the highs and lows of field work,” Max whispered. He wasn’t aligned with S.H.I.E.L.D. in any way before the academy; some level six agent had seen him lie his way through a shoplifting charge, leaving with the contraband, and had vouched for him personally. Small miracles. 

Piper rolled her eyes. “She’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. legend, dumbass. This could be the first thing that actually gives useful info, instead of just bs about old bases.” Daisy snorted her agreement, her mind still reeling. _Just act normal, there’s no reason for anyone to connect the insane dot you’re worried about._

Melinda walked across the stage, looking incredibly uncomfortable. “Most of you probably already know me, but for those who don’t, I’m Melinda May, level seven field agent. I was asked to basically explain responsibilities in the field, which is stupid, because I’m the poster child for not following orders, but here we are.” The laughter from the cadets seemed to spur her on, although Daisy could tell that her mom was intentionally not looking at her. Shit.

As she continued on, Daisy could tell that Melinda was trying to avoid coming off as emotionless, which she did a lot around agents (and just people in general). It was going to be a shock for them when they someday worked with her, and she was as emotionless as ever. Only she and Trip could tell what she was doing, though they were trying not to seem too knowledgeable. Trip was respecting her want for her parentage to remain a secret, and Daisy was in turn respecting the fact that he didn’t want anyone to know that his grandfather was super cool.

“You have to learn to be unbiased in the field. If an agent’s life is in danger, by all means, try to help them, but your main focus should be your team’s objective. Becoming biased in the field could lead to...consequences.” May’s eyes drifted over to Daisy for a split second, before they were gone and she continued her lecture. _Unbiased my ass._

“What?”

Trip was burning holes through her with his eyes, confirming that she did indeed say that out loud. Daisy clamped her hand over her mouth on instinct, removing it after a moment. “Um, nothing.” Her voice, thankfully, didn’t shake with the irrational panic she was feeling. She thought her cover would be blown by a nosy cadet, when it could just be because of her own stupidity. 

Piper narrowed her eyes slightly, but then Melinda asked for questions, and her hand shot up, attention fully back on the stage. Max just shrugged and watched Piper struggle to get noticed with unhidden amusement.

~

The ride back to Communications gave Daisy the time to learn two things: either no one remembered or cared about her slip up, and people _really_ liked her mom. Some of them definitely bordered on creepy, but most of them were just in awe. And so was she, every day of her life, although it had faded slightly into just a fact of life over the past 10 years: she would always be in awe of Melinda May, because her mom was awesome. 

“So, what did you think?” Daisy twisted around to see Piper leaning over the top of her seat, practically sitting on Max. “Of Agent May, I mean.”

“She’s...interesting. Most of what I know about her is probably just academy tales or something.”

“Right. There’s the one that’s true though, that she got married and had a kid a while ago.”

 _Shit._ “I don’t really think that’s any of our business.” It wasn’t, not at all. 

Piper leaned closer, so much so that the top half of her body could no longer be considered in her seat. “It is when you’re they’re kid.”

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We did it! Now you've got to wait two weeks to see how that particular plot point plays out! Yayy! I apologize for that, I feel kind of mean, but oh well. 
> 
> As of right now, this fic has got over 1500 hits which is insanely awesome. I'm really glad everyone is liking this, because I like writing it. 
> 
> See you on March 19th for the next chapter!


End file.
